


Silver Lining

by Guardian_of_Hope



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Fix It, Gen, Time Travel, Wolffe had a daughter, clone kids au, geonosis changes everything, search rescue and retrieval side universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-19 21:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17609525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_of_Hope/pseuds/Guardian_of_Hope
Summary: Foxxe didn't have a perfect life, but she was happy.  She was a Jedi Knight with a good reputation, a mother who loved her, an adoptive grandfather turned Master, and as many chances to give the Empire fits and setbacks as any Lady Jedi slash Rebel Instagator could wish for.Then a mission to her mother's homeworld of Kiffu went off the rails in a manner that she'd never expected and she has the chance to change things.Mother always said there was a silver lining in every cloud.





	1. At Least It's Not A Padawan

**Author's Note:**

> This story draws on my Search, Rescue, and Retrieval: Clone Wars universe. Like the Wanderer/Four Regrets story line, this begins in the Imperial Era, specifically, this would be about a year before Yaven happened. But this timeline is DIFFERENT from the Wanderer/Four Regrets timeline. Instead of being Misha focused, we are now peering into a possible life for Mysta Val, called Foxxe, a Jedi and the daughter of Wolffe.

Foxxe flexed her fingers a few times before reaching over to take a pair of forceps to retrieve the blood red Kybers from the lightstaff.  She swallowed, trying to inch up her shielding enough to keep the malevolence of the Kybers from turning her stomach even as she used the Force to maintain the positions of the lightstaff pieces before her.  Sliding the first of two crystals into the specially shielded box was enough to help Foxxe relax slightly even as she reached for the second one.

It wasn’t until the box was sealed shut, with the forceps and crystals inside that Foxxe let her shields thin.  Master Dami, their combat master, had said he didn’t need another reconstructed lightstaff for now, so Foxxe slid the pieces back together and tucked them into the shelving unit that held her collection.

“You’re getting good at that.”

Foxxe turned and smiled, “Thanks mom.”

“I mean,” Krysta continued as she entered the room, “I should probably be worried about how many of those you have, but given how many times I’ve seen holos of those things flying through the air all I can wonder is why they keep throwing them around like that.”

“Slow learners,” Foxxe replied with a sage nod, “It’s like they’ve never fought Force Sensitives before.”

“Well, if you’re through, Plo asked me to send you up to meet the Council,” Krysta said, “apparently you’re needed.”

“I’ll comm the team,” Foxxe said, turning to her comm device.

“Just you,” Krysta said.

Foxxe glanced at her mom, surprised.  It wasn’t likely that the Jedi Council would summon her alone, not unless they’d finally decided that her habit of stealing lightstaffs from Inquisitors had grown beyond the bounds of denying resources to the enemy. 

About to head up to the council room, Foxxe stopped groaned, “Please tell me it’s not a Padawan,” she said, turning to her mother.

Krysta smiled softly, “You sound like your father when you say that.  He dreaded Master Plo taking a Padawan.  But this time, no, they’re not going to ask that of you.”

Foxxe didn’t bother to hide her relief, keeping the skulk alive on missions was enough a challenge, and they’d been trained for it since entering their last years of apprenticeship, she wasn’t ready to start from scratch with a Padawan.

“Go on,” Krysta said, “go see what the Council wants dear.  If you have time, come by the house for supper afterwards.  Bexar and the boys are going to be in.”

Foxxe grinned, “I will, I’ll make time if I have too.”

“Love you,” Krysta said.

“Love you too,” Foxxe replied and headed out.

The Council tended to meet in the smaller of the two community buildings, which was close to the salle where Foxxe had been working on the new lightstaff.  The jog over was nice, the autumn air crisp but not too cold and the trees around her bright with the changing of the season.  After twenty years, the campus that housed the primary government buildings and the academy buildings was no longer new, the wood was weathered and the stone no longer painfully new.

Foxxe loved it, she’d grown up here, in one of the cottages that resided beyond the trees in the west, toddling after her mother and ba’buir since she was old enough to escape the creche and find one of them.  She’d learned to do first aid before she could reliably recite her multiplication tables and had been a silent spectator to the reformation of the Jedi Order.

After twenty years, she could walk the campus blindfolded if need be, and had once funded a vacation to her favorite amusement park by doing so.  Today, however, she didn’t indulge in anything fancier than hoping a few fences and taking the “shortcut” of leaping up the retaining wall instead of diverting over to the stairs.  She did pause to help one of the new Padawan, a little Pantoran boy who hadn’t quite managed the trick of using the Force to jump, but otherwise steered clear of the class doing the urban obstacle course that wrapped around the campus’s various buildings and courtyards.

The community building used by the Council was a single story, with a peeked roof  with stained glass windows that reminded Foxxe of some of the religious facilities she’d seen in her missions.  The three windows that were placed above the door held the old Republic military symbol, the old Jedi symbol, and directly over the door was the symbol that had been adopted for the Jedi in Exile, the military cog with the Jedi’s flame and sword in the center.

Foxxe smiled at the blue and grey symbol, then opened the door and stepped inside.  Today, the doors to the great hall were closed, and she could hear the Padawans attached to the Council and not currently in class in the room set aside for them.  From the way Hali was chittering, they were probably playing paddle ball.

Foxxe rapped on the door to the great hall, relaxing her shields to let her former master know that who was there.

 _Come in,_ Plo sent in response.

Foxxe opened the door and stepped inside with a smile, “You wanted to see me, ba’buir?”

Master Plo smiled from his place at the apex of the horseshoe table, while Master Saje gave her a warm smile, and Master Kasper gave a slightly disapproving sniff as she passed him.  Foxxe didn’t even twitch, Master Kasper was newly appointed to represent the Initiate Education Department and hadn’t been around long enough to understand how things worked between her and Master Plo.

“Yes, youngling,” Master Plo said, “we have a mission we would like you to volunteer for.”

Foxxe tucked her hands behind her back and bowed, “My team’s always willing to help the Council, ba’buir.”

“Actually,” Master Saje said, “this is a solo mission.”

Foxxe blinked, “Solo?”

“One of Master Kara’s contacts has gotten word to us of a Jedi artifact on Kiffu,” Master Plo replied, “Master Jaran is on assignment with his padawan at the moment, or the mission would devolve to him.”

Foxxe bowed her head slightly.  Kiffu had survived the Empire’s interest in their abilities and the legacy of Master Quinlan Vos by becoming insular, turning away anyone who was not Imperial or Kiffar by birth and possessing the _qukuuf_ markings.  Although Foxxe considered herself to be vod’ade, and thus more Mandalorian than anything, her mother was a Kiffar of Clan Val and had placed the Val _qukuuf_ markings on her as a baby.   While not ashamed of the sky blue triangles, Foxxe rarely left them uncovered when she was on mission, finding the markings in conjunction with her father’s lighter brown skin to be far too distinctive when almost every full blood Kiffar that Foxxe had ever met or heard of was far darker, and even black skinned.

“I’ll go,” Foxxe said with a quick bow.

“Master Kara will provide you with the particulars,” Master Plo said easily, “she’s overseeing some mission preparation at the Leviathan Base and knows to expect you in the morning.”

Foxxe grinned, “Of course, ba’buir.  Will you be joining Mother and my uncles after dinner tonight?”

“It is my hope,” Master Plo said, “but with the council business I can make no promise.”

“Of course,” Foxxe said, “until I see you again, then.”

“May the Force be with you,” Master Plo replied.


	2. At Least He's Still Breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mace Windu trusts the Force, even if he doesn't know WHY he's throwing himself to the floor.

The holo of the Geonosis was old, drawn from the archives by Master Nu and raced to the landing platform as the Jedi boarded the ship that would whisk them to rescue one of their own.  Windu frowned as he studied it, hoping that there was some accuracy in the holo compared to what they would find.  He glanced around the hold, aware that people were beginning to turn towards him and the rest of the Council.

“Are you sure about this,” Coleman asked quietly as Agen joined them while his Padawan went to stand with some of the other young ones.

“There are too many unknowns,” Mace replied, equally quiet, “we need Kenobi’s information, and we need to see this for ourselves.  The Chancellor and the Senate will not react in time without proof.”

“But to strip the Temple like this,” Agen said softly, “There will be backlash.”

Mace hated politics, hated that Master Yoda had tricked him into taking the title ‘Head of the Jedi Order’, but this was why he had yet to step down.  “We will weather the storm, as we always have.  For now, let us explain to our brothers what is to come.”

“Of course,” Coleman said, bowing slightly.

Mace glanced at the holo again, then turned to the room.

Silence fell quickly, with a few of the Padawans hushing each other.  Mace kept himself from dwelling on how young they looked.  He knew they were all senior, all trained, but Mace often found him surprised that Depa was a council member, and not his still his Padawan.  He glanced over the group, meeting Echuu’s eyes for a moment, as well as Padawan Reath, before he cleared his throat.

“We are going to Geonosis,” he said, pitching his voice to fill the hold.  “Our primary task here is to retrieve Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, who has been captured and is in possession of vital information related to the so-called Separatist Council.  Our secondary task is to capture Yan Dooku and the Separatist Council, who are currently meeting on Geonosis.”

A warning in the Force led Mace to dive to one side.

There was the sound of rushing air, and the hum of lightsabers.  Mace looked from where he’d fallen on the floor to see one of the Padawan, Kara Saje, hand outstretched and calling a red lightstaff to her hand.

“Don’t,” Master Ohnaka began, but the staff shut off and settled on the floor before she could touch it.  Mace looked around as he stood up, wondering where the staff had come from.

There was a grey swirling cloud against the wall behind where Mace had been standing, with blue lighting crackling through it.

_“Stealing is it?  Hah, I call it denying resources to the enemy.  Didn’t I claim one of those, oh, three weeks ago off you?”_

A woman’s voice echoed from the cloud as Mace backed away.  It was taunting, confident, but not cruel, a woman who knew her opponent well, perhaps.

_“You know, I’ve heard, yes heard di’kut, that if you lost another staff you would have to explain your losses to the Emperor.”_

The woman now sounded almost thoughtful.

 _“If I were_ just _a vod’ade, I’d probably celebrate your incompetency, I’d say that getting fried by the Sith would be no less than you deserved for what you did to the Rodians.  But I’m a Jedi, and I will refrain.”_

“That’s Mando’a.”

Mace glanced over his shoulder as Plo Koon joined him, “I’m sorry?”

“Those words, they’re Mando’a,” Plo Koon said.

_“Look, you have no weapon, so why you… oh, well, that’s a good reason to be stupid, I guess.  I, on the other hand, know how to be smart, so I will take my artifact and get out of here.”_

Mace refrained from pressing his fingers into the bridge of his nose by the dint of long years of practice.  Whatever was going on, he had the feeling it wasn’t over with yet.

_“Well, I figured that since there is this lovely portal right here, I’d try that.  Better than, I don’t know, getting murdered by stormtroopers or something.  Best of luck with the Emperor!”_

A figure came through the mist, humanoid from what Mace could see before they stumbled over the drop and fell to their hands and knees.  The mist vanished as they groaned softly and muttered something.  Mace held out his hand, indicating that everyone should stand back.

“Are you all right?”  Coleman asked when the person did not move.

“Watch that first step,” the person replied, their voice a match for the woman they’d all heard before.  “It’s a killer.”  They shoved their dreads back from their face as they sat back on their heels and Mace took the time to study her.

Young, was his first impression.  While he’d have said human at first, he was quick to note the _qukuuf_ markings that marked her as Kiffar.  The woman shook out a light purple scarf that she bound around her dreads to keep them from her face even as she took in the room slowly, golden-brown eyes drinking in everything.  She wasn’t tall, but she was muscular, the build of a woman who worked for a living.  Her clothing, dark purple pants and jacket, and a shirt that matched her scarf, were worn, and cut in the close fit of a spacer.  Her boots were black and practical, with the close fit that came from hand-made work, although Mace did notice that she had something tucked away in the back of one.

She had a silver metal hoop with a leather wrapped center grip on the back of her jacket and a blaster on her hip, both of which showed signs of use.

When she came to Mace and Plo, she gave Mace a once over that was more assessing a threat than recognition, a factor Mace confirmed when she looked at Plo.  Her face lit up, not with recognition, but relief and the joy of meeting someone they knew well.

“Ba’buir,” she said.

“I am sorry,” Plo said after a moment, “but you must have mistaken me for another.”

The woman frowned as she stood up, “But, you are Master Plo Koon, are you not?”

“I am,” Plo replied.

The woman tapped her chin with the knuckle on her right hand as she studied him in silence for a long moment.  Mace stepped forward, intending to ask for her name at least, if not an understanding of what had happened.

The woman glanced at him, her eyes narrowing in what was both a warning and almost recognition before focusing again on Plo.  “Well, you don’t recognize me, not even in a ‘it can’t be you’ sort of way.”  She closed her eyes and heaved a sigh, as if the weight of a planet had fallen on her shoulders, “So that means that I am twenty-four years in the past, if not more.  Lovely.” 

“Twenty-four is a rather specific number,” Ki-Adi said.

The woman turned slightly, smiling again, “Well, I’m twenty-four, and I’ve known ba, sorry, Master Plo since I was born.”  She pointed at Ki-Adi, “And if Master Plo can’t place me, then I haven’t been born yet.”  She tapped her chin again, “What I can’t think of, is what reason there would be…” she trailed off, looking stunned as she turned back to Plo.  “This is the _Amber Dawn,”_ she said softly, “this is the Jedi strike team that fought at the Battle of Geonosis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pictured this scene and my brain would not even CONSIDER writing about Kiffu. So, we get down to business (to defeat... *coughs*) and time travel.


	3. At Least Someone's Having A Good Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time traveling Jedi plants her feet and speaks up on the future they are about to experience, and has a little fun along the way.

“This is the _Amber Dawn,”_ Plo said, “but you’ll have to forgive me for asking, who are you?”

The woman bowed slightly, “I am Foxxe, Jedi Knight.”

“Knight Val,” Mace began.

“It’s Foxxe,” Foxxe cut in, “My mother was Clan Val, I am not except for the genetics.”  She wiggled her fingers at him pointedly, “No psychometry.  My skills lie in other directions.”  She glanced around a moment, “Speaking off, there was a flying lightstaff that was misplaced.”

“Over here,” Padawan Saje said quickly, half waving her hand.

Foxxe turned, “Thank you,” she said, calling it to her with a careless wave.  Most of her attention was on the Padawan, “You’re Kara Saje, aren’t you?”

“Yes master,” Kara said with a nervous, quick bow.

Foxxe laughed, a little nervously, “Oh, don’t do that.  It makes the fact that our first meeting involved me being naked even weirder.”

The headache he’d felt was definitely lodging itself rather more firmly now.

“Naked?”  Kara said.

“Well, I was four,” Foxxe said, “and I had managed to delay bath time by effecting a rather ingenious escape.  If you hadn’t of been dropping by the cottage with mother’s delivery, I’d have made it off the porch and everything.”

“Oh,” Kara said, “good to know, I guess.”

Foxxe bowed her head and then frowned at the hilt of the lightstaff even as her nose wrinkled slightly.

“Is there a problem?”  Ki-Adi asked.

Foxxe glanced up at him and snorted, “Master, one may become accustomed to handling… disgusting things, but that does not mean that they are enjoyable.  Red ‘sabers are a reflection of their handlers and while young, this one is seeped in the aura of it’s former owner.  I wasn’t exactly planning on jumping through a time vortex today, and I don’t have a shielded case with me to deal with the aura.”

“Do you often require one?”  Mace asked, almost unable to help himself.

“Not as often as I’d like,” Foxxe said as she put the lightstaff on the floor by her feet.  “I mean, if they’re going to throw them around like that, then I reserve the right to deny resources to the enemy.  It’s basic weapons handling, anyways.  You never throw away your weapon, especially if it’s the only weapon you carry.  That’s like suicide.”  She paused for a moment and then shook her head, “The Inquisitors are dumb, not suicidal.”

She turned to look at the still active holo of the arena, head tilted sideways in consideration, “Master Windu, the Battle of Geonosis is a teaching tool for those of us who have an interest in tactics and strategy as well as a training exercise.  The fact that many of the original goals of the strike team’s mission were unachievable, as well as the casualty rates and it’s position as the first battle of the Clone Wars, it’s a frequent topic and example.  Would I be permitted to provide advice on the subject?”

“Wouldn’t that affect the timestream?”  Coleman asked.

“Of course,” Foxxe said, “that’s the fucking point.”  Her features hardened, not in anger but in determination, “The Clone Wars was a clusterfuck from beginning to end, the lives lost, civilizations destroyed, not to mention how it ended for the Jedi and the Republic.  The Master of the Order and the Council handed down a ruling ten years ago, that anyone on an artifact retrieval mission who located an active temporal Force artifact was to impose change on the timeline.  Those assigned to those particular missions are provided with secondary missions and objectives should a temporal shift occur.”

“What happened to us?”  Depa asked.

Foxxe pressed her lips together, “The Sith lay a trap for the Jedi, used the war to undermine their standing in the eyes of the public, and when Master Windu provided them with the necessary opening, the Republic Senate, under the Sith’s influence, declared them traitors and executed them.  There were, people, who had been mind controlled and placed in positions close to the Jedi, when the order came down, the control exerted itself and over eight thousand Jedi died in the span of three days.”

“I provided them an opening,” Mace said, forcing down his own horror.

“Yes,” Foxxe said, “the official Imperial files show you leading a small group of Jedi into the Chancellor’s office.  No footage from within remains, but the Chancellor was severely scarred and the Jedi dead at the hands of ‘one who’s loyalty to the Republic would not let him stand with his once-brothers’.  Whatever reason you had for going to the Chancellor, the real reason, is lost.  Master Plo speculated that it had to do with the death of the Separatist’s Supreme General and the end of the war, but how that led to the Sith’s actions is unknown.”

“Imperial files?”  Plo asked, his own calm restored as Mace stepped back slightly.

“The Chancellor, backed by the Sith, and apparently the GAR, Grand Army of the Republic, transitioned the Republic into the Empire under the Chancellor’s rule,” Foxxe said.  “Those who survived the Purge, and the Force Sensitive children, like myself and my cousins, who were not yet in Temple, retreated from Imperial space and reformed as the Order in Exile.  There’s also the Alliance to Restore the Republic, also known as the Rebels, but we keep our distance from them.”  She closed her eyes for a moment, “Our first priority after Empire Day was to secure the Jedi, and then to reform and rebuild.  When the time was right, our Search and Rescue teams started going out, to find the Force Sensitive children and to seek any surviving Jedi from the Purges.  Along side them came my people, the Intelligence and Strategic Asset Redistribution teams.  We infiltrate Imperial holdings, retrieve information and arrange for the diversion of Imperial supplies for the use of our people.”  She smirked a little, “Some might call us spies and thieves.”

“What would you call it?”  Plo asked.

“I’m a spy and a thief,” Foxxe said cheerfully, “my job is to go places and do things that cause problems for the Empire and gives us the supplies we desperately need.  The Empire controls, if not outright owns, the means of production for a large number of items that a rebellion, or a secret community, requires to survive.”

“And the Rebellion,” Quinlan Vos asked.

“Our non-Force Sensitive allies are members,” Foxxe said, “the Sith turned a number of the Dark Jedi into the Inquisitors, who hunted Jedi and Force Sensitive children.  During our rebuilding times, the risk of losing a fully trained and experienced Knight or Master was deemed too high a price.  There are other Jedi who joined the Rebellion, survivors of the Purges that we never could make contact with, but our first operative to go in is one of the few Jedi Shadow we have.  Misha’s young, it’s true, and joined up right after his knighting, but he’s a top pilot and excellent Shadow.  Really, Master Vos, he’s a true credit to your training.”

“Mine?”  Quinlan said.

“Misha was your third Padawan,” Foxxe said, “you took on an orphan, a survivor of the Purges, and then Misha.  I believe that Master Kitta funded her retirement on that decision.”  The wicked grin she offered Quin was distinctly fox like.  “I understand that the winning bets were ‘in recovery following a life threatening incident’ and ‘Quinlan Vos’.  Nightmare told me you said it was because ‘otherwise he’d never survive to Knighthood.’”

Quinlan stepped back a little, Aayla shifting over to put a hand on his shoulder and speak softly in his ear.  Mace detected a great deal of amusement from her, and some of the others who knew the Kiffar Jedi best.

“Now, back to Geonosis, Master Windu?”  Foxxe said.

Mace nodded slightly, “All right, Knight Foxxe, let’s hear what you have to say.”


	4. At Least It's Warm In Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foxxe's experience is written on her skin, scars that go all the way through. She's not going to let anyone deny that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, this is the last chapter that is pre-Geonosis. The battle is coming, and the aftermath. I haven't not updated the chapter length, although it is possible that I might need too. We'll see.

Foxxe stared at the hologram, it was little different from the one she’d spent so many hours over, trying to figure out _how_ and _why._   She could feel him, just behind her, Plo Koon her grandfather in all the ways that mattered to her and knew to him she was a stranger.  She clenched her fist, then passed at the unfamiliar feeling of leather.  Glancing down, Foxxe realized that she still had the artifact in her hand.  It was either an idol or amulet, on a leather thong for easy in carrying.  She poked it with the Force and sighed, it was drained, but not empty and would probably recharge on its own if allowed.

Considering a moment, she turned to the one she knew and trusted best, even if he didn’t know why.  “M-Master Plo,” she said, holding it up, “would you be so kind as to put this somewhere safe?  As the object that brought me here, it will no doubt be key in reversing the effects.”

“Of course,” Master Plo said, taking it from her, “I will make sure of it.”

“Thank you,” Foxxe said with a bow.  Then she turned to Master Windu, again forcing down the urge to really express her opinions of him and his shitty tactics.  “Now, the mission objects are, what?  Capture Dooku and or the Separatist Council, arrest the Fett, save Kenobi, Skywalker, and the Senator?”

For a brief moment, Windu’s expression twisted into some form of shocked horror at her words and Foxxe blinked.

“It is only Kenobi,” one of the others said.

Foxxe blinked again, “Uh, that’s not what the after actions say, not to mention that Master Plo showed me his memories.  Kenobi, Skywalker, and Senator Amidala were all prisoners in the arena, I mean, they were trying to rescue themselves, full marks for initiative, but they were there.”

“But we ordered him,” one of the others began.

Foxxe laughed, the short, caustic one that came when she wasn’t really amused but had to do something to override her desire to point out how stupid someone was.  “The first thing an officer learns, even or perhaps especially, the hard way is that you don’t give orders you know will be disobeyed.  Even an experienced officer slips up sometimes, but as a general rule, yeah.  Anyways, did I get the objectives right?”

“Why include the Fett?”  Quinlan asked.

“The progenitor of the clones?  The guy who survived the Massacre of Galidraan working for the Jedi who caused it?  The story of Jango Fett’s role in the lead up to the Clone Wars has so many contradictions and holes in it that the truth has been lost, especially since he chose to act on behalf of the Separatists in the arena and was terminated with prejudice.  I’d love a chance to sit him down and question him.”

Foxxe tilted her head and then turned, finding Kara, and the Weequay who had to be Honso Ohnaka.

“But in terms of strategy, step one would be getting our people out of the arena and secured without injury, and since the resources are here, I’m using them.”  She smiled a little, “Kara Saje, and Master Ohnaka, that’s you two.”  She hesitated a moment, “I’m sorry, this is unkind I know, but after your loss, Master Ohnaka, and Kara’s knighting, she heads up the GAR’s Search and Rescue division.  Her training, at your hands and under your guidance, made her a unique and valuable asset, responsible for the saving of Jedi who would never have survived otherwise.  After the Purge, she trained and organized the teams that were set to saving the Jedi survivors, and the children.  As much as she credits your tutelage in the matter, I trust I can hand that particular aspect over and know that it will be done efficiently.”

“We will do our best,” Master Ohnaka said with a bow.

“Master Quinlan Vos, Knight Secura,” Foxxe said, turning, “I’d like you to consider the Fett problem your own puzzle.  His son will be with him, so include that in your factors.”

She turned to Master Windu, “About the only part of your tactics I approved of was you taking on Count Dooku in the viewing box.  It serves as a distraction and an effective first move.  The biggest objection I ever had was the presence of the Padawans in the arena.”

“Oh,” Master Windu replied, looking sour.

“Less than a dozen Padawans survive the Arena,” Foxxe said, “the oldest and most experienced ones, the ones who will be Knighted within the year even if there wasn’t a war.”

“What would you suggest?”  A Zabarak asked, glancing over at the group with the Padawan braids. 

“I know that our training process altered after the Purge,” Foxxe replied calmly, straightening up even as her heart ached.  This was not a place for kindness, not if it meant the loss of even one of Jedi she was now determined to save.  “So I would ask if blaster training was a part of the training for Padawan now, and if these here have useful training in such.”

“There is some,” a Togrutan said cautiously.

“Are you Master Shaak Ti?”  Foxxe asked.

“I am,” the Togrutan replied with a slight bow.

Foxxe couldn’t help the smile, “My uncles, the younger ones who are still cadets now, they told me about you.  They all considered you their greatest protector on Kamino.”  She tucked her hands behind her back, “I don’t expect that you’ll have the kind of blaster training that I did, but one of the reasons there were so many casualties is because the Jedi are close in ground fighters by training, and against blasters it is frequently disastrous on a battle field, enough blasters from enough directions, well, I’m sure you understand.  My proposal is to provide the Padawans with blaster rifles and have them serve as the home guard, with a few Jedi to provide additional cover for when the Genosians try to get involved.  They’ll protect the ship, and a fortified position from which to defend until the Army gets here.”

“We don’t have blasters on board,” Master Windu said.

The squeak that escaped her was never to be admitted and Foxxe spun in a circle, counting in Huttese to keep from exploding at them.

“Blasters are so uncivilized,” one of the others began.

Foxxe turned, “This, this is my problem with you,” she announced, turning to the speaker, a Twi’lek, and forced herself to modulate her volume, “If you’ve ever been in a war, then you’d know there’s nothing civilized about it.  When shit’s exploding and blaster bolts are flying around, and your best friend is dying but the enemy keeps coming and you can’t see straight because you’ve been holding them off for hours, waiting for a rescue that you know is going to be two minutes too late, that is not the time to wrinkle your nose, flap your hands like a kilibird, or faint like a socialite.  That’s the moment when you pull yourself together, pick up a blaster, and start firing, and trust the Force to show you where because otherwise you’re just going to die.”

She glanced around as she slid off her jacket and let it fall, “And before you ask what I know about war, maybe you’d better take a closer look.”  She grabbed the hem of her shirt, took a deep breath and pulled it off, letting them see the scars clearly and plainly even as she turned back to Master Windu.  “If you don’t have them onboard, then we’ll take them from the droids that will be guarding the arena.  I don’t know who’s got the skill, but whoever can just yank them out of their hands from a distance better get that job.”

“All right,” Master Windu said after a moment.

“Capturing or killing Dooku, well, that was a disaster waiting to happen,” Foxxe continued, “he knows how to use his environment in a fight, fucking Sidious handed him the knowledge of Force Lighting, and he has no morals to speak of any more, up to and including willingness to force Master Yoda to choose between saving the injured Jedi he’d already defeated and allowing Dooku to escape.”  She tapped her chin a moment, considering, “Kenobi and Skywalker tracked him down the first time, it was a valuable lesson in humility for Skywalker, although the cost of losing his arm.”  She trailed off and shook her head slightly, “I don’t know what to recommend there.  What I do know is that if the Council gets into the tunnels under the arena, the Genosians will hide them well and they’ll get away.  I’d almost say it’s more worth it to let them escape, given that the Genosians are armed and willing to fight and have the battle droids to back them up.”

Foxxe moved around the holo, not looking at them, “I don’t recommend any plan that involves taking or holding the arena.  If all you have are lightsabers, it can’t be done.  ‘Sabers aren’t long distance weapons and given that the Genosians can fly and are armed, there’s no shelter from which to make a stand.  I’d only take half the team into the arena, to serve as a cover for Master Ohnaka’s strike team.  Clear a corridor to the pillars to connect with the three targets, and then fold it back.  Put Master Windu, and a squad, excuse me, a group on the entrance to the box the leaders will use to try for capturing Dooku et all, as well as Master Vos and Knight Secura’s plan for the Fett.  Then get back out as fast as possible, to a more defensible and fortified position where holding cover until the Army gets there is actually possible.  It’ll still be dangerous, and death is still a possibility, but the original plan ended with two hundred pyres, so I think I’m ahead on that one.”

Master Windu bowed his head slightly, “Put your shirt back on, Knight Foxxe, and let’s make this work.”

Foxxe grinned as she picked up her shirt.


	5. At least she's still alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foxxe isn't perfect. As nice as that would be.

They hit Geonosis running, with the different teams splitting up to take on their own tasks.  Foxxe joined Master Plo with the group that would enter the arena.  After some consideration, Foxxe took her lightsaber from it’s hidden pocket in her jacket and carried that, as well as her blaster.  While she wore her lightstaff in it’s accustomed place between her shoulder blades, Foxxe wasn’t quite ready to let on the full purpose of the blade.

They entered the arena as Master Windu finished speaking with Dooku, and Foxxe studied the arena, the approaching droids and the location of their targets.

“Go,” Master Plo ordered, and Foxxe ran.

Blocking blaster fire was instinctive, a skill she’d utilized so often that it required no thought.  Instead, she focused on her own blaster, targeting droids one after the other, picking off the ones that were targeting the rapidly approaching trio.  As she passed them, Foxxe focused, she could stare at them later.  Her job was to make sure the approaching droids didn’t get a good shot at them.

A burst of frustration, a shout of anger and pain, the pain of losing someone in the Force.

Foxxe shook her head slightly and frowned as she saw the cannon coming into the arena.  She glanced around and made her choice.  She shoved her blaster into it’s holster and leaped, using two B1s as a launch point to come down on the cannon.  As she flipped away from a well timed explosion, she cursed softly.  She’d done exactly what she’d warned them about.

Foxxe glanced across the arena, seeing Plo look at her and threw the thought out, hoping he heard her as her ba’buir always heard her.

_“I know, I’m stupid.  Focus on the exit, I’ll catch up.”_

She took the lightstaff hilt off her back as she made her way up a few levels of the arena seats.  Then she ignited the lightstaff and made it spin, with the blades blocking shots she ran along the seating, moving between the levels to dodge different groups of Genosians.  Then she turned, launching herself up with the Force and angling the lightstaff upwards to extend her glide.  She switched her saber for her blaster and opened fire, hoping to buy enough time to get her feet on the ground.

The landing was rough, and she cursed as her ankle rolled in a way it really shouldn’t, but she kept her staff up and spinning and didn’t drop the blaster.  She tried to take a step and nearly fell.

Mando’a curses crowded her mind and she bared her teeth, unwilling to let them out.

Then instinct told her to duck, and she did, allowing for a thrown saber to pass over and almost behind her.

“Looks like you could use a little help,” Plo said as Foxxe forced herself back up straight.

“It crossed my mind, ba’buir,” Foxxe replied, picking off an approaching droid as three other Jedi moved into the group.

“Here,” one of them said, “lean on me.”

Foxxe switched the hand holding her spinning staff, angling it to cover her uninjured flank and let the Jedi take her weight.

“Let’s go,” Plo said.

Foxxe nodded.

“I’m Misha,” the Jedi helping her said.

Foxxe hesitated a moment, “Are you Corellian?”

“Yes,” Misha said.

“Oh, okay,” Foxxe replied as they ran.  “Foxxe, by the way.”

Misha just nodded slightly.

“Sorry,” Foxxe felt compelled to say, “one of my cousins, his dad, you saved his life.  Zip named my cousin after you.”

“Uh huh,” Misha replied, blocking a stray blaster bolt.

“Zip and the others, they always said that you had the best Sabacc face they’d ever seen.  I’m pretty sure three of my uncles got their names while trying to make you laugh,” Foxxe continued as they entered the tunnel exit.

Misha laughed, “I’ll keep that in mind, Knight Foxxe.”

“We need to get back to the landing zone,” Master Plo said, “Knight Foxxe, are you able to move?”

“Sure,” Foxxe replied, she was pretty sure that they were teasing her by calling her ‘night fox’, but she wasn’t going to call them on it.  Sometimes that was the point of it, after all.

They hurried through the tunnel, catching up with the other Jedi as they passed the first junction.  “Tear them down,” Foxxe offered as they passed, “just pull the rocks down behind us.”

“That won’t stop them,” Misha said.

“No, but it buys time,” Foxxe replied, “sometimes that’s all you need.”

The Jedi moved back to the landing zone, which was now the surrounded by GAR gunships.  “That would be the army,” Misha murmured.

“The craziest but nicest guys you’ll ever meet,” Foxxe said, “just remember, they are soldiers, they were trained for war.  Give them the space to get the objectives and they’ll amaze you.  Now, dump me with the medics and get back out there.”

“Yes ma’am,” Misha replied.

Foxxe watched the other Knight report to Master Windu and thought that Zip had named his child better than she’d known.

A screech distracted Foxxe however, and she turned to find Secura and Master Quin dragging a boy into the compound.  A moment of stillness allowed Foxxe to confirm that it was Boba.  Gritting her teeth, Foxxe moved forward as they came by.

“Sleep,” Foxxe said, pushing the urge on the boy.  He relaxed instantly.

“That is a strong kid,” Master Quin said, picking the boy up as he sagged.

“He’s Mandalorian,” Foxxe replied, trying not to wobble.  “His dad?”

“Sedated over by the healers,” Aayla said, “and restrained.”

“Well, I’m out,” Foxxe said, “I’ll handle Boba.”

“Are you okay?”  Master Quin asked.

“Bad landing, hurt my ankle,” Foxxe replied, “I’ll just stay here until I can confirm it’s not broken and get a wrap.”

“You’re sitting out for that?”  Master Quin said, skeptically.

Foxxe smiled, “My mother’s a doctor, and she works with the Jedi Healers.  If I were to try to get involved with my ankle like this, they would manifest here and screech with the tonal quality of a thousand gundarks in outrage.  I’ll get it checked and then get out there.”

Quin laughed, “I think that’s the best description of Healers I’ve ever heard.”

“Here,” Aayla said, “let me help you.”

Foxxe nodded slightly, “Much appreciated.”

Soon she and Boba were settled next to the bed where Jango Fett slept off what was apparently a sedative dart that one of the Trandoshan Knights had shoved through the armor joint just above his thigh.

The healers had been notified that Foxxe was there, as well as her inunction that she wasn’t going anywhere, but to worry about the blaster shots before they worried about her ankle.

Now all Foxxe had to do was wait for her charges to wait up, armed with crutches if she needed to move.

“What do you mean stay here, Dooku’s getting away!”

Foxxe sat up, glancing across the enclave to where Anakin Skywalker and Master Kenobi were talking with Master Ki-Adi Mundi.

Skywalker was throwing his hands around and shouting loudly about the indignity of being denied the right to fight Dooku.  Apparently Master Windu had made his choice.  Foxxe watched with narrowed eyes, but whatever Kenobi and Mundi were saying was having no impact on Skywalker.  She pushed herself off her chair and settled her crutches before heading over there.

“I should,” Anakin began as Foxxe got within reach.  She transferred one clutch to free herself up.

Then she wacked him in the back of the head with her open palm.  “Grow up, Padawan,” she snapped, ignoring the paired looks of shock on the other two.

“Who the hell are you?”  Anakin managed after a moment.

“First of all, I’m a Jedi Knight,” Foxxe said, “which is more than I can say for you.”

“Knight Foxxe,” Master Mundi said quietly.

Foxxe smiled at him, “Sorry Master, but I was afraid he would disturb the healers.”

Master Mundi bowed his head slightly, “Padawan Skywalker is meant to take part in security for the landing zone.”

“Oh,” Foxxe said, an idea in her head, “Well, I’m restricted until a Healer can set my ankle and I could use a bit of help.  I don’t expect the Fett to be unconscious for much longer.”  She side eyed Skywalker and Kenobi.  “I mean, if Padawan Skywalker has been released from his protection detail.”

There it was, Master Mundi had clearly seen what she was going for.

“Yes, you are correct.  Padawan Skywalker has not been released from protecting Senator Amidala.  To allow him to abandon that duty.”

“Where is Senator Amidala?”  Foxxe continued, “I mean, as I understand it, she has authority to negotiate with a, political prisoner.”

“She does,” Master Mundi said.  “Padawan Skywalker, where is the Senator?”

Skywalker paled, “She’s, she’s, uh.”

“I will retrieve the Senator,” Master Kenobi offered, “why don’t you see what this new duty of yours will entail.”

Skywalker opened his mouth to object and Foxxe cleared her throat pointedly.  “Yes Master,” Skywalker said finally.

“Excellent,” Foxxe said, “I should get back before either of them wake up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Jedi Knight Misha here is, as said, the namesake of my clone!kid Misha. For more information on his story, the SRR story Easy is Relative talks about him.


	6. At Least Boba Survives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jango Fett wakes up. Nothing else really makes sense.

"Seriously, the people who will yell the loudest will do so because they're jealous that I did it first."

Jango blinked, trying to put together what had happened. He'd been... fighting Jedi, when Boba had yelled and then a sharp pain. He shot up right, only to be slammed back downwards by a medical restraint field.

"What happened?" He slurred.

“You got shot in the ass with a sedative,” the woman’s voice said, sounding far too cheerful while someone else, that sounded like Boba, giggled.  “Su cuy’gar Jango Fett.”

Jango struggled with the restraints until he could see.  A Kiffu woman was sitting on the bed next to him, one leg was extended, and the ankle wrapped.  Sitting beside her was Boba, looking unharmed.

“Go on,” the woman said, elbowing Boba.

Boba jumped off the bed and scampered over to sit beside Jango, “Are you okay?”  He asked.

“I am,” Jango said, forcing away his discomfort.  “What’s going on?”

“Officially?”  The woman said, “Officially you have been detained for questioning in regard to the clone Army, the attempted assassination of Padmé Amidala, and possible collusion with the entity known as the Separatist Council, whom I believe are still quantified as an insurgent organization and not a recognized government, but that will probably change.  My name is Foxxe, I’m a Jedi Knight, and my job is to make sure nobody takes offense to your existence before an authorized Republic spokesperson can address the situation.”

“And Boba?”  Jango asked.

“As Boba’s closest, unfettered genetic relative, I’ve got temporary custody,” Foxxe said.  She smiled a little, “That might change when we’re back in Republic space, but for now, it is what it is.”

There was a muffled sound and Foxxe closed her eyes for a moment, then smiled politely, “Excuse me.”  She leaned back and looked down, “Feeling better?”

The Skywalker kid stood up, “Much actually.  You were right about my shields.”

Foxxe smiled at him, “Sometimes you just need a few moments to center yourself.  Now, go see what Senator Amidala’s up to.  I trust Trapp to watch her back.”

“But it’s my duty,” Skywalker said with a bow before heading off.

Foxxe studied the area for a moment, then slid off her bed and hopped over to Jango’s.  She balanced herself with a hand on the edge of the bed while the other reached down, and then Jango’s bed began to move, allowing him to sit up without the restraint field going down.

“Your _beskar’gam_ is on the bench between our beds,” Foxxe added as she sat down on the foot of the bed and Boba shifted until Jango wrapped his arm around his son and let the boy’s head rest on his shoulder.  She stretched out the leg with the bandaged ankle carefully with a rueful smile, “Sorry, as I told Master Quin, my mother is a doctor who works with Jedi Healers, if I mistreat an injury every damn one of them will show up to screech in outrage with the tonal quality of a nest of gundarks.”

“Sounds about right,” Jango offered.

“Have you ever heard of a Lissian Jedi?”  Foxxe said before he could say anything else.

Jango considered, thinking back for a long moment, “Stories, they were time travelers.  Some Jedi myth.”

Foxxe sighed, “I wish it were a myth.  I am a time traveler.”  She crossed her arms and leaned forward, “I could show you the security feed from my arrival, I could drag a Jedi over to tell you about it, hell, I could get a blood analyzer and show you some thing that you yourself would know is impossible, but would you believe any of it?”

“Depends on the analyzer, what would it say?”  Jango asked.

“Well, it would say that I’m a daughter of one of your Clones,” Foxxe replied, “not sure how it would classify the two of us, given the genetic games the longnecks indulged in.”

“Which one?”  Jango said after a moment.

Foxxe grinned, “CC-3636, Wolffe, Commander of the 104th and 124th.”

He pictured the clone, and his tubemate, and could see the resemblance in their smiles.

“So, why are you here?”  Jango asked.

“Pure accident,” Foxxe replied.  “My mother’s a Kiffar of Clan Val, and Force Sensitives of that Clan have a reputation for strange and interesting things.  In my case, I was snatching a Force Artifact from dark siders and activated it in the process.  Between the swirling vortex of doom and a Dark Force User and their two dozen soldiers, I picked the vortex.  When I realized I was on a ship to Geonosis, I realized could change two things about our history.  The first being to ensure that more than thirty Jedi and a dozen Padawans survived that arena.  The second was to ensure that you, Jango Fett, survived.”

“I died,” Jango said, his arm tightening on Boba.

Foxxe nodded, her face serious.  “The Jedi didn’t touch Boba, they left him in the care of the Seps, who left him to make his own way.  Some time in the next year, Aurra Sing will find him and use his anger and desire for vengeance over your death to cause havoc with the GAR and the Jedi.  Then she’ll abandon him to face Judicial.  He served two years in a max security prison before being released and taking up the role of a bounty hunter.  For the past twenty odd years, he’s built a reputation to match your own.”

Jango clinched his free hand at her short and blunt summary of his son’s future.

“About a year ago, Boba and I were traveling on the same passenger vessel.  He was serving as security for a rich man and I was, well, that’s not important.  What’s important was that we were attacked by pirates, and as the only competent blaster users on the ship, Boba and I teamed up to defend the ship until one of the di’kut on the bridge had the brilliant idea of setting the self-destruct.  We ended up in an escape pod together for about four hours.  During our time spent waiting, Boba talked about you, and it gave me a different perspective on the man who was the progenitor of my aliit.  It gave me a lot to think about.”

Foxxe toyed with the sleeve of her shirt for a long moment, “Do you understand what Order 66 is?  What it’s meant to do?”

“I do,” Jango said after a long moment, “In theory.”

“I come from a time where the Jedi managed to get stupid enough to justify it,” Foxxe said.  “What little we know is that Master Windu and four other council masters went up there to discuss the fact that the High General of the Confederate Army and Dooku were dead and it was time for the Chancellor to step down.  Something happened, and the Chancellor claimed that the Jedi attempted a coup.  The order went down and the Jedi were purged.  I won’t argue that with you, because I know you have some different opinions to mine.  What I want to discuss with you is Operation Knightfall.”

“What’s that?”  Jango asked.

“Operation Knightfall is the name of the plan for the Temple,” Foxxe said.  “The key aspect of it is a simple fact.  If the children of the Order are threatened, every being in the Temple able to carry a lightsaber or handle a blaster will come immediately to save them.  It is a plan that centers around the death of children, the murder of babies in their cradles, for no greater crime than their midichlorian count.  Now, you are Jango Fett, twenty-five years after your death, your reputation for never contracted a child, never harming a child witness, and never ever allowing children to be collateral is intact.  Your son has never, ever doubted your love for him even so long after your death.  So tell me this, Jango Fett, why would there exist official government records listing the architect of Knightfall to be you.”

“I never would,” Jango said, “never ever.”

Foxxe nodded.  “But a dead man cannot protect his reputation.  Should the truth of Knightfall have ever come out, a dead man would be a convenient target.”  She turned, and straightened slightly, Jango glanced beyond her to see Skywalker was coming back with the Senator, Amidala.  “Senator?”  Foxxe said.

Senator Amidala nodded, “It’s confirmed, Knight Foxxe.”

“Excellent,” Foxxe said, she turned back to Jango.  “Jango Fett, this is Senator Amidala.  One of her political allies is Mon Mothma, the Senator from Chandrila.  Senator Mon Mothma’s family has a number of Mandalorian in their employ as security.”

“Here are their names,” Amidala said, holding out a datapad.

Jango only reads three names before he looks between them, “They, they’re dead.”

“No,” Foxxe said.

“They survived,” Amidala said.

“I’m not going to be able to take care of Boba forever,” Foxxe continued, “but I thought, if there was anyone in the world that you would trust to care for your son, it might be the only other surviving True Mandalorians who stayed true to those ideas.”

“And all you want is information,” Jango replied.

“There will be those who might try to persecute you for the assassination attempt, of course,” Foxxe said, “but bargaining those details will be between you, your lawyer, and the courts.”

“I need to think about this,” Jango said finally.

“Very well,” Foxxe said.  “But there will come a time when the Jedi can not longer justify the offer, so keep that in mind.”


	7. At Least It's A Familiar Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things change, some things do not.

The artifact that had brought Foxxe to the past started glowing the next day, while most of the Jedi and clones were departing Geonosis.  Jango had made a temporary bargain with Senator Amidala, with intentions to continue to deal in good faith after seeing his son into the custody of the True Mandalorian survivors from Chandrila, and so many other changes were rolling out into the world.

Master Plo brought the artifact back to Foxxe before the Jedi strike team’s ship was loaded, and she took it from him with no little concern.

“I’ll see you when you get back,” Plo told her quietly.

“I hope so,” Foxxe replied, “just, don’t try to force Mother and buir into anything.  They’ll be stubborn about it if you do.”

“Do not worry,” Plo said.  “This is not good by for us.”

“It’s see you soon,” Foxxe replied, hugging him quickly.  She backed up, “You know, I’ve called you Master Plo more times since I got here than I ever did before that.  I’m just so used to calling you ba’buir.”

“I look forward to hearing you call me that again,” Plo replied.

Foxxe looked down at the glowing artifact and then looked behind her, where a grey vortex was growing larger.  “Damn,” she said, watching it, “Val Clan genes strike again.”  She took a deep breath and stepped through it.

/././.\\.\\.\

This was not the half collapsed temple where she had gone through the vortex the first time nor was it Geonosis or the ship.  Foxxe stared around her at the room.  It had stone floors and plaster walls that were orange and tan in color.  There were no windows, but a vent for air circulation was at the top of the room and across from it was a door.

Foxxe tucked the artifact into her jacket’s inside pocket and palmed her blaster as she approached the door.  It had a touchpad beside it that lit up at her touch and the door opened.  The hallway outside the room was the same color as the room she’d been in, but there was an added rug with darker orange and black geometric designs.  There were other doors in the hallway to her left all the way down to where the corridor ended, but the other way, Foxxe turned to look.

“Foxxe!  There you are!”

Foxxe blinked as Misha raced down the hallway to her, “What,” she began and cleared her throat.

“Master Yoda and Master Plo are waiting for you,”  Misha said, he glanced behind her at the room, “What were you doing in there anyway?”

Foxxe glanced behind her and then back at Misha, “Falling through a vortex, actually.  Where the fuck am I?”

Misha frowned, “The Jedi Temple, duh.”

“On Coruscant?”  Foxxe said.

“No, on Hoth,” Misha replied.

Foxxe closed her eyes and took a deep breath, “Misha, you said that ba’buir and, and Master Yoda were waiting for me?  Where are they?”

“Council meditation chamber,” Misha said.  “You’d better hurry, you’re late.”

“Right,” Foxxe said.  She bit her lip, “Misha, I’m sorry, but I don’t know where that is.  I was being literal about that vortex.  I’m a time traveler.”

“Oh,” Misha said, Foxxe noted his sudden nervousness.

“Look, just get me to ba’buir, and we’ll get this settled,” Foxxe said.

“Okay,” Misha said, “follow me.”

Misha set a pace just fast enough that Foxxe couldn’t stare at the Temple as they went, but she figured she’d have plenty of time for that.  What she did take in was proof that holos did not render the full details of a space and the Temple was magnificent.  Not to mention the feel of being around so many Force sensitives.  Foxxe had been in crowds during her missions through out the Empire, but none of them, not even the riot she’d once barely escaped, had given her this feeling of energized purposefulness and safety.  There was little doubt that this building was a beacon of the light on all of it’s levels.

As they took a lift upwards, Foxxe leaned against the wall and tried not to giggle in euphoria, “There are so many,” she whispered.

“Huh?”  Misha asked.

“There are so many Jedi,” she told him.

“Well, yeah,” Misha shrugged, “as of yesterday, we’re officially at fifteen thousand, eight hundred and sixty-three Jedi of all ages.”

Five thousand more Jedi than at the start of the war, Foxxe thought, awed.  How had everything changed so much?

She cleared her throat, “So, did the phrase a _Hazard_ situation still come into use?”

“Yeah,” Misha grinned, “after that sanctuary moon thing.”

“Baby vod’e, right?”  Foxxe said.

“Yup,” Misha said.

As the doors slid open, Foxxe realized that Misha was happier than she’d known him before.  The sarcastic little shit who had driven Glider crazy with his insanity was nowhere to be seen in this smiling, relaxed young man, and he seemed so much younger than he had since Master Quin’s death.

“Misha,” Foxxe said as they walked down the hall, “Who, who Knighted you?  Who was your Master?”

“Master Quin, of course,” Misha replied.

Foxxe closed her eyes for a moment.

“And you got Master Plo,” Misha added, “if you were wondering.  Kara said once that he almost had to duel Master Skywalker for the honor, but the little Fett threatened to ‘hog tie him properly’ if he interfered.”

“Little Fett, you mean Boba Fett?”  Foxxe said.

“Yeah,” Misha said, “he’s a Judicial captain now, works slave rings and stuff, so he works with Kara a lot.  He’s at the Temple almost as much as the vod’e.  Here’s the chamber.”

Foxxe nodded slightly, “Well, let me speak with Master Yoda and Master Plo, Misha.  Maybe later I’ll come find you and get the gossip.”

“Sure,” Misha said, “have fun.”

Foxxe stepped into the meditation chamber and looked at the two Masters waiting for her.  Master Plo looked unchanged physically, but was less grieved than she’d seen him before, and Master Yoda, whom she’d barely spoken to on Geonosis, looked much the same as he had ordering troops into battle.

Foxxe stepped forward and drew the artifact from her jacket, placing it on the cushion before Master Yoda.  “Master Yoda, ba’buir, I am here to report that the _Hazard_ situation of the Battle of Geonosis is still in progress.”  She spread her hands outwards slightly, “Apparently, I’m back.”

“It is good to see you, Foxxe,” Master Plo said, and that was right.  The affection in his tone, the knowledge and recognition of her made her breath stutter a moment.

“I see that there have bee a _lot_ of changes,” Foxxe said.

“A seat, you may have,” Yoda said gesturing.

Foxxe settled onto a cushion, crossing her legs automatically.  “I have so many questions, Masters.”

“And there will be time to answer all of them,” Master Plo replied, “for now, the simple ones.  Jango Fett provided us with information about Order 66 and Operation Knightfall on the journey back to Coruscant, and eventually the identity of Darth Sidious, although that was not revealed until after the possibility of Order 66’s activation had been completely neutralized.”

“What happened?”  Foxxe asked softly.

“Do you remember the artifact from Pantolomin, the one that caused you to speak your thoughts plainly?”  Master Plo asked.

“Yes,” Foxxe said dryly, “I remember it very well.”  She’d told Boba about it, a distraction from his father lying sedated in a war zone.  Skywalker had probably heard the story as well.

“Knight Saje and Knight Val brought it back to Coruscant as part of their evidence after a mission to rescue kidnapped children belonging to certain Senators,” Master Plo said, “the box was damaged during transit and activated during the Chancellor’s speech announcing the children’s safe return.  Apparently, he’d assisted in orchestrating the kidnapping to continue the war and undermine the peace efforts in a bid for more power.  When Judicial moved to arrest him, Sidious fought them, revealing his abilities.  Knight Saje and Knight Val were able to hold him until several of the Jedi Masters were able to assist in stopping him.  During the fight, Knight Saje’s Ilandrian battle mind became active and after Master Honso was killed in the fighting, she was removed Sidious’s arms, allowing him to be captured and subdued.  Unfortunately, Sidious died in custody while awaiting trial in one of the special Jedi cells, where the Force is strongly subdued.  It appears his heart gave out.”

Foxxe pressed her lips together to hold back a cheer, and gave a seated half bow, “I thank you for the information, Master Plo.  I look forward to seeing what else has changed from the time I once knew.”  She paused for a moment, “Tell me, those certain Senators, would one of them happen to be Senator Amidala?”

“It would,” Master Plo replied.  “Her twins were given to the creche not long after, for their safety.  They’re currently on missions, Master Gallia has taken Leia to oversee a wedding on Aurin and Master Kenobi has taken Luke to Corellia.”

Foxxe inclined her head slightly, “As I said, Master, I look forward to seeing the many changes that face our world.”

“Go, you may,” Master Yoda said, “Much to learn, you have.  Wait, the meditation will.”

“Thank you,” Foxxe said, standing up.  She bowed, “May the Force be with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the real last chapter. Scary, I know. I hope you enjoyed my wild ride.

**Author's Note:**

> In the SRR Alternate Universe, the Jedi who survived Order 66 found refuge on an unsettled planet on the fringes of Imperial space, protected by the local sector's government. The planet, while nameless, is home to the Jedi Order in Exile, the de-chipped survivors of the GAR, and the families of force sensitive children.
> 
> To note, most of the surviving Jedi qualify as OCs, although I did specifically choose Plo Koon to survive, and he is now the Grandmaster of the Order. (I use the Legends age for Plo, so he's in his third century, which is late middle age for a Kel Dor and thus the oldest Jedi Master in the group).
> 
> I will admit, I spent a lot of time weeding out the Order in Exile worldbuilding in this chapter because it was lengthy, but I'm happy to comment on questions about it, so long as they don't involve spoilers. (I'm also happy to discuss my live/die list for the Order as well, but that's more tentative than I'd like, and has far too many examples of 'survived 66, but died later' like Quinlan Vos.


End file.
